


Thoughts We Dared Not Think Under the Mountain

by iezzern



Series: The Vanserra Legacy [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iezzern/pseuds/iezzern
Summary: Eris has been trapped Under the Mountain for fifty years when Lucien is suddenly brought into Amarantha's throne room, bloodied and beaten. He's doing everything in his power to ensure his brothers will stay out of harm's way, but Amarantha's rule makes caring dangerous...
Relationships: Eris Vanserra & Lucien Vanserra
Series: The Vanserra Legacy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033671
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	Thoughts We Dared Not Think Under the Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> I literally cannot get enough of writing about the Vanserra brothers and their unending angst. I like them hurting, sorry. This is also an attempt to rationalize/explain their behaviour Under the Mountain, as I always found it overdramatically cruel and douche-ish.

Fifty years.

Fifty years under the mountain had left Eris a worse male than he’d thought he’d ever be. Under the Mountain did that to fae. Eris was no different, in the end. No different than a lesser fae with fears to manipulate.

Amarantha believed she’d seen through him. Seen through his carefully woven net of lies and safeties. She was wrong. She’d only seen half of them. It’d still left Eris scrambling to gather whatever he had left.

He knew he couldn’t show softness. Not even to his little brothers. Amarantha was ruthless and, therefore, anyone Under the Mountain was ruthless. It was best not to think of them. Not acknowledge them in any significant way. Amarantha would use that as an excuse to do whatever she wanted.

The Vanserra siblings used to be her favourite victims. Even when they made themselves boring victims. Eris can barely bare meeting Neri’s eyes nowadays. But they’d survived. As Vanserras always did. They’d played their parts and hadn’t protested too much. Pleased her.

For fifty fucking years life had been hell and nothing more for the Vanserra brothers. And then Amarantha’s lackeys came dragging Tamlin and little, little Lucien into the hall. Eris hasn’t seen _him_ in fifty years, either. Or without his right eye. The years have done him good.

Tamlin took his place beside Amarantha, and Lucien was forced into his. On his knees. Forehead pressed to the marble floor. Eris clenches his teeth and plasters a smirk on his face. Amarantha seems pleased. Neri looks like he’s about to vomit, but he always does these days, so Amarantha doesn’t make note of it.

And then, days later, that small human girl is brought into the hall, her young, defiant face shining with life. She was barely an adult and Eris felt a flash of immense pity for her. Tamlin had doomed this girl by falling for her. Had probably tried to spare her. She’d come back for him.

Amarantha asks the girl’s name. She doesn’t give her. Amarantha asks again, this time with Rhys holding Lucien’s mind captive. Eris’s heart jackrabbits then, one small emotion slipping past his iron armour. He signals to his brothers to follow him, and then pushes himself to the front. Needs to have his eyes on Lucien.

He grins as cruelly as he can. Keep up the illusion. Don’t let her see that you care. Don’t let her use him any more than this. His brothers follow suit, Joash probably putting some real reprehension in it.

They need to play these parts, no matter how disgusted they are by her. Because Father, the weakling, had sold his family out for his own safety the moment Amarantha took power. Neri now “belongs” to one of Amarantha’s cousins, Thorne. And if Amarantha gets angry, Thorne gets angry and Neri suffers for it. So their parts they play.

Lucien lets out a small, whimpering sound and Eris keeps himself from flinching. He steels himself for the worse. Prepares for Lucien’s mind the be shattered and disappear forever. Because he can’t protest now. Because Neri is trembling slightly against his side. And now, Neri is far more important to Eris than Lucien. Because Lucien hadn’t been down here fifty years. Hadn’t felt Amarantha’s hatred and pain and torture. And his death will be better than any form of torture he’ll face down here.

Eris forces himself to not close his eyes. Show no remorse, no anger, give her nothing to use against them. Or Lucien. Tamlin is staring at them, as if to memorize their faces and who is grinning the broadest. The knight in a bright fucking armour, not seeing past his own _morals_.

The Lindenstrengs survive by bludgeoning their way through barricades. The Vanserras survive by convincing barricades they aren’t all that dangerous to let through. Tamlin can’t seem to get that past his thick brain.

Amarantha asks Eris if any of them have noted the girl’s name. Eris answers within seconds.

“If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you.”

He means it. He would give up this shot at freedom any day. Doesn’t even feel guilty. Showing anger and disgust is useless—obvious. It means giving Amarantha an opening to strike through. Eris can’t afford any strikes from her now. Not with little, little, Lucien on the line.

Lucien is near freedom—near escape for a short moment and then—“Feyre. My name is Feyre.”

Eris is sure his own scowl is reflected in his brother’s faces. For the rest, for Joash and Rennari and Neri, it’s an act. Convince her they hate him, as they’ve made her believe these fifty years. But Eris—Eris means it. Goes as far as to bare his teeth. Now little, little Lucien would be free to torture. Free to use against any of them. They were now so much deeper in Amarantha’s grasp. Eris’ one weakness presented to his enemy on a silver platter.

Sometime later, Amarantha presents the girl with a riddle. She can’t solve it and the Vanserras laugh at her as loudly as they can, because Neri is seated in Thorne’s lap. Joash had been as rude as to protest Lucien being used as the human’s bargaining chip, and such they faced consequences.

Neri being seated in Thorne’s lap means General Ruth will get jealous. And that means even more pain for Neri. Eris hates this fucking place.

The human girl completes her first task and stupid, little Lucien and his too-good heart, puts himself in the line of danger again. He was never good at hiding his desperation. Or goodness.

Neri flinches with every strike of the whip against Lucien’s back. Joash has to hold him as still as he can by his wrist. Tamlin isn’t holding back. Eris knows it’s necessary to hold off Amarantha’s cruelty, but he still illogically resents Tamlin for it.

Lucien doesn’t even let out a sound, bites his lip and squeezes his eyes closed. He’s trembling, though, droplets of blood dripping from his back down on the floor. Eris doesn’t blink. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t give her _anything_.

Afterwards, Rennari drinks four whole bottles of wine and then vomits it up again. Joash has to hold him down on the floor, sobbing, when he tries to go give Amarantha grief over it. He’s still yelling, though—yelling far too loudly. Joash finally decides to just knock him out. They all breathe a small sigh of relief when there are no footsteps echoing in the hallway. No sign Amarantha caught wind of Rennari’s little rant. Their father does, though. And beats Rennari nearly unconscious as a result.

Neri slips away in the night, not having to serve Thorne or Ruth tonight due to Father’s rage. There is no doubt he goes to visit little Lucien. He’s hidden bandages and remedies in his shirt, after all. Later, Neri asks if he can sleep in Eris’s bed and tells him that Lucien isn’t dead. It’s the best he can do, right now.

Recklessness seems to run in the family.

Eris gets to know later that their mother, Katya, had gone to help the human girl as a thanks for sparing Lucien. He goes to her with rough words and anger in his eyes, scolding her for the danger she’s drawn to herself. She waves him away with a small sliver of defiance Beron hasn’t been able to quench yet.

Eris starts understanding Rennari’s love for alcohol.

Amarantha comes to visit him that night, talking of traitors and plots. Eris doesn’t answer her, doesn’t give anything up. It doesn’t work. She hints he’ll have to watch the next time Neri is brought to Thorne’s bed. Eris lets it slip that there may be some lesser fae from Winter that’s plotted something. The fae dies without as much as a whimper, already as good as dead, and Eris doesn’t let himself regret it. Kindness and solidarity are strangers to him now.

Rhysand starts showing up at night with a barely dressed human girl on his arm. Eris smirks and signals his brothers to do the same, because the act of scheming bastards isn’t nearly as convincing here. Believing the Vanserra brothers to be perverted monsters who take advantage of everyone and everything? The rest of the fae can manage from their high horses. Believing the Vanserra brothers are scheming with Rhysand in some secret plot? Wouldn’t stir enough gossip, and would throw guilt on both them and Rhysand. Amarantha would have her fun with that within minutes.

Eris’ morals were long dead and gone because of this approach, yes, but no one had morals under the mountain. No one was merciful under the mountain. All anyone ever was, was scheming and careful.

Eris and Joash start towards the two—Joash to stupidly tell Feyre thanks for sparing Lucien; Eris to tell Rhysand that if he’s to kill Lucien, he better to it quickly. They don’t make it, but Eris still gets his point across. Rhysand looks disgusted, because not even the dark martyr understands fully how Under the Mountain works.

The second task comes far too quickly. Katya’s transgression leads to Lucien chained to a floor, burning hot spikes dawning down over him. Eris quickly realizes the girl can’t read. At all. He leans over the railing and chuckles, to keep vomit from rising in his throat.

Neri is clutching at Joash’s hand, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Eris readies himself for it. For when Lucien’s screaming inevitably stops. When his heart inevitably stops beating. It doesn’t come. Rhysand has somehow helped the little wretch. Eris is shaking, and twists his face into a scowl to convince Amarantha it’s because he’s angry.

And when that girl _finally_ manages to figure out the riddle, Eris nearly slumps with relief, but keeps himself upright just so the fae here won’t seize the opportunity. Eris catches the eye of Lucien and then has to turn away, because Joash is chasing after a tearful Neri.

Rennari and Eris throw themselves after the two immediately, and Eris doesn’t regret leaving there without even clearing his name. Neri’s going for Ruth, and Father will be angry if he’s released from Under the Mountain without his favourite general.

They don’t reach him before he disappears and, for the first time in long, Eris feels panic beating in his throat. If Neri does this—if he defies Father one more time—it may end in him dead. And Eris won’t have it. He won’t.

But they don’t need to stop him. Because he’s standing frozen in the hallway, eyes stormy. Thorne is already dead at Ruth’s hand. And he reaches out that hand—that filthy, bloody hand—and strokes it down Neri’s cheek. He assures the shaking red-head that he never has to be under this bastard again. He has his little beauty back for good. The defiance Neri had inherited from Katya still remains in his eyes, but it’s waned to near-nothingness.

Joash is trembling with anger, but doesn’t dare do anything. Eris had given up being angry a long time ago. Even after this, even after fifty years of hoping it’d be better, the Vanserra brothers are still trapped under Beron’s rule.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic, if you did please leave a comment and kudos! TY for reading!


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